


throw some glitter (make it rain)

by SafelyCapricious



Category: Miraculous Ladybug, Naruto
Genre: Crack, Dream Sharing, F/M, Soulmates, idk man good luck, maybe????, no edits we die like men, or something like it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:15:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28305921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SafelyCapricious/pseuds/SafelyCapricious
Summary: Luka had been dreaming about her for as long as he could remember. Which was probably around when he’d been ten. He felt like he’d been dreaming about her for longer, but lacking the memory he just couldn’t be sure.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura (Naruto)/Luka Couffaine (Miraculous Ladybug)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	throw some glitter (make it rain)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [momotamago](https://archiveofourown.org/users/momotamago/gifts).



> Title from Blow by Kesha because it's what was playing when I was trying to post. 
> 
> This is a gift for Chaos Solstice to the ever wonderful Momo.
> 
> Doing Chaos Solstice for the pals over on the Haruno Sakura Discord Server, and Momo gets the first of the chaos. Enjoy bb!
> 
> I don't know what I'm doing. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯¯\\_(ツ)_/¯¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Luka had been dreaming about her for as long as he could remember. Which was probably around when he’d been ten. He felt like he’d been dreaming about her for longer, but lacking the memory he just couldn’t be sure.

She’s beautiful.

And he’s terrified for her.

He taught himself how to lucid dream for her. But it doesn’t seem to make much of a difference. The dreams carry on like he’s an observer, even when he can say things and — it’s like he’s at one of those reenactment festivals where they take everything very seriously and won’t break character for anything. Or maybe more like trying to interact with one of those living statues that won’t move no matter what you do but —

He’d learned Japanese for her. When he was younger he’d just understood what was being said — but as soon as he figured out how to lucid dream the language had changed and he hadn’t been able to understand it. He’d audited like seven different language classes before any of them had sounded even vaguely like what he heard her speaking in his dreams.

Not that Japanese was quite right — or, it probably was as close as he could get — he thought maybe she was speaking a regional dialect? Or maybe an ancient version. Which didn’t make any sense, because he saw ‘modern’ things in the dreams with her, so it wasn’t like he was dreaming of feudal Japan or anything.

Also there seemed to be magic, or something like it, so it probably didn’t exist.

But he wanted her to exist.

It was his heart’s dream to meet her and just…be able to talk to her. He admired her and he maybe loved her and like almost every song he’d ever written was about her.

And besides, the whole thing with the Akuma and Ladybug and Chat Noir was like magic as well, so who was he to judge what was real, really?

Ladybug actually reminded him of her a little bit, though his dream girl was rarely as put together as Ladybug managed to be. Sometimes he liked to imagine how she’d fare fighting against whoever the Akuma of the week was — and usually he thought there would be a lot more damage, with her wielding telephone poles and the like to take down her foe.

He never told anyone about the dreams. Not that he was ashamed. He could never be ashamed of her. But when the lucid dreams changed them and then learning the language had changed them more and — he was afraid, and willing to admit it, as to what telling someone else about the dreams might do.

He didn’t want to lose her, ever.

But he didn’t think he’d ever have her, not really, either.

Which was probably why he didn’t do anything when with a crack that sounded like thunder she crashed into the floor of his room, energy crackling around her as he was tuning his guitar one day.

***

Sakura had always had weird dreams. Her mom told her that dreams where how they dealt with the trauma or stress of her day to day life, but she could not for the life of her figure out what some dark haired civilian boy — and not even a Konoha civilian, she didn’t know where he was but there weren’t nearly enough trees and they had some weird carriages and she didn’t see any ninja which was a little alarming — had to do with her trauma or stress.

It wasn’t like she didn’t have plenty of stress and trauma to fill several lifetimes worth of dreams, after all.

Ino told her that he was probably her soulmate. Hinata told her that you couldn’t dream about someone you’d never seen. Tenten told her it was a past life she was seeing. Tsunade told her to dodge faster.

So the dreams continued and — it was nice. She didn’t really understand it but she felt safe when she was asleep, and she really enjoyed his music even if the words didn’t mean anything, but some of the songs felt like her. And it was nice.

And so maybe it was weird, when she got pierced through and was using the last of her chakra to heal the wound even knowing that her team probably wouldn’t get to her in time and she should probably be doing something else but she couldn’t and — so it was maybe weird that she thought of him, in that instant, sitting and playing his guitar and she was sad, for a moment, that she was going to die and never see him again.

The world lurched as her skin knitted and then —

She thought it was a dream at first, as she caught her breath and stared up at a wooden ceiling. The ground was moving under her, lightly. Undulating.

“Are you okay?” a voice asked, and she recognized it but — she turned her head and the boy was there, leaning over the edge of his bed and staring at her.

She’d never heard him say something she understood before. His accent was atrocious. “Who’re you?” she asked, even as she tried to catch her breath. She was probably dying, or dead, and this was the last few seconds of her brain before it went totally dark. Well, at least it was nice. If she had to see Orochimaru as her last sight she would’ve revolted.

“I’m Luka,” he said, holding out a hand to her and smiling sweet, “I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time.” It took her brain a moment to parse his words, it wasn’t just the accent that was wrong, but how he said it or something. It was weird. Like listening to her great-great aunt talk after she’d gotten totally lost in sake.

“Okay,” she said, and uncurled her fist, ignoring the bloodstains, to place it in his. “I’m Sakura. And also probably dead. But hi, I guess.”

“Hi,” he said and pulled her up to her feet. She was grateful that she didn’t hurt. And she didn’t feel drained, huh. She only managed to stand on her own for a second, however, before the movement of the floor sent her stumbling into him and his arms came up around her.

It was comforting. It felt safe.

“I think you’re my heart,” he said, and she blinked and realized she could feel his heart under her hand.

And also she probably wasn’t dead, or dying.

Huh. Well.


End file.
